Declivity
by Vinagrette
Summary: Draco's pining. Harry couldn't care less...maybe. [Slash]


-**T**hey're not mine, but it is slash.

-**T**his story is going somewhere…I just don't know where.

-**I** dedicate this to you. Yes, that's right, you there. No, not you – YOU. Yes. You. To you.

__

_D'you feel a little down today?  
Bet you ain't got much to say?  
But you're gonna miss me when I'm not there  
You know I dont care, You know I dont care _

__

_As we beg and steal and borrow  
Life is hit and miss and this  
I Hope, I Think, I Know  
And if I hear the names you call  
If I stumble catch me when I fall  
Cos baby after all, You'll never forget my name _

-I Hope, I Think, I Know

-Oasis

The bloody owl dropped the bundled up parchment right into my porridge. After slapping the slightly soggy paper against the table – sending bits of oats flying in Ron's direction in the process – I reluctantly unfurled the frayed parchment. I wasn't very anxious to read it. The last random letter I got had been sent from Fred and George, which would have been fine had it not turned by hands green when I opened it.

Taking a chance, as always, I held up the parchment and read the single sentence it bore:

Stop staring at me.

Immediately I knew whom it was from. I was **not** staring at him! I hadn't even looked in his direction all morning. Not that it was easy, of course.

With a glare I crumpled up the paper and stared with narrow eyes across the great Hall to find him smirking at me. As he lifted his fingers to give me a little wave that seemed condescending even from across the Hall, I realized that I was staring. Damn him.

I could feel my cheeks burn as I crammed the balled up note into my book bag. He annoys me in a way nobody else could. And he knows it, too, I reminded myself. That's why he does it.

The relentless end of the year workload and Hermione's constant reminders to "study hard" were becoming a bit much to handle. On Friday nights it was relaxing to wander out and sit on the shores of the lake. Just myself, and a vast expanse of inky water and sky. With the cool water lapping about my bare feet, it was easy to forget about homework and the Quidditch cup and –

"Honestly, I've never seen anybody stare at me like that before!"

Hadn't I come out here to be alone? I didn't bother to turn around.

"Really?" I replied. "Too bad, what with all the effort you put into drawing attention to yourself." Although obviously annoyed, my voice remained quiet. He seemed to notice my tone lacked a cutting edge, and he took it upon himself to sit right beside me.

"Yes, well, they're all so fascinated by my good looks they don't have time to glare at me with blind hatred like you do. That's very special, you know." He grinned that…stupid grin and took off his shoes, planted his feet right beside mine, and settled in. I noticed his toes were still pedicured.

I stared at the moonlight reflected in the ripples his feet caused. "I was not staring." Although I could tell I wasn't convincing, I continued, "And I don't hate you."

"Don't you?"

…Not convincing at all.

I pulled some grass from the ground before throwing the lithe blades into the water with a sigh. "I really don't." Trying to sound serious, I turned to face him, but he kept staring out over the lake as if I weren't even there, "You know that."

"Do I?"

"Stop it!" At that, I threw some of the grass in his general direction, smiling with satisfaction as a few stray blades clung to his hair.

He didn't notice. "If you don't hate me," he began, finally turning to meet my gaze, "you shouldn't act as though you do."

The grass in his hair stuck out at odd angles, giving the illusion in the moonlight of tousled locks. I grinned inwardly, knowing how angry he'd be if he could see himself.

"I do not act like I hate you."

"Just like how you weren't staring at me this morning?" He smirked, although he didn't look so very smug with grass in his hair.

I frowned. "I wasn't staring until you interrupted my breakfast with your annoying letter!" I was louder than I needed to be and he turned away with a shrug, lying back on the grass with arms tucked behind his head.

He spoke matter-of-factly, "You were ignoring me. You always ignore me."

I snapped, "What good has paying attention to you ever done me?!"

That shut him up. And so we sat, immersed in silence. I glared out across the lake, wondering why I didn't just get up and leave. Feeling his eyes boring into the back of my head, I fought the urge to turn around.

The silence stretched on forever. No rustling trees, no hooting owls, only the faint rippling of water when I wriggled my toes beneath the shore. I had just begun to wonder if he had fallen asleep when his voice broke into the suffocating silence.

"Do you remember our first kiss?" As he spoke, he sat back up and stared at me intently -- almost urgently. I could see a small frown tugging at his lips out of the corner of my eye until he reached over and cupped my chin, gently turning me toward him.

Swallowing hard, I met his empty gaze, ignoring the voice in my head that screamed at me to turn away.

Yes! I wanted to scream. Yes of course I remember! The old transfiguration room where I went to hide from Filch and found you. I remember how angry I was that you were there and how sure I was that you were going to get me into trouble. I'll always remember! Remember how sad you looked and how annoyed you were when I walked in. I remember the way you rolled your eyes and spat my name. The way you stomped to the door and got ready to leave, not realizing that Filch was on the other side.

I **do** remember! The way I inexplicably put my hand on your shoulder to stop you from going and breathlessly explained what was waiting on the other side of the door. The way you were so shocked I had kept you from getting a sure detention. I remember. The reluctance in your voice when you thanked me and the disbelief I felt when you did. The surprised stare we shared during the strange length of silence that surrounded us after.

I remember all of it! How you sat on top of an old desk and looked up at me expectantly. I remember the shrug I have before I sat beside you, the way our legs dangled off the edge, and how our hands were almost touching. I remember. I remember how we both stared at our hands, yours, usually so pale, the same shade as mine in the darkened room. The way we looked up from our hands at the same time and when our eyes met, instead of the usual spite and fury, your gaze was blank.

I remember having only a second to contemplate what was happening before you leaned forward. I remember knowing what was coming and not wanting to prevent it. I remember how my mind reeled and my body literally trembled as I leaned in too, pressing my lips against yours.

I remember! I remember thinking about how soft your lips were, wondering what you thought of mine, and then not caring either way as I put my hands on your narrows shoulders and pulled you closer to me. I remember the feel of your hand gently squeezing my thigh as you tilted your head to the side to part my lips with your tongue.

Remember? Of course I do. Remember our breath in short gasps, your lips on my neck, your teeth grazing my skin. I remember how I closed my eyes and moaned, how I ran my hands through your hair, and how through all of it, I still had time to register the fact that nothing would ever be the same between us. I do remember. How your hands gripped my waist as I kissed down your jaw line. I remember how you gasped when I flicked the lobe of your ear with my tongue, and how you sighed when I pushed open your robe to trail my lips across your collarbone.

I remember how when we finally parted we started at each other. I remember how your cheeks were flushed and your lips were swollen and red. How you gently took the glasses off my face, and how I didn't care that my vision was blurry because I knew you were right beside me. I remember how I could still make out your ethereal form in front of me and how when I reached out to touch you, you grabbed my wrist and held it in midair as your stared at me.

I remember the feel of your perfect lips on my fingertips and the cold metal frame of my glasses as you pressed them into my sweating palm. I remember feeling you slide off the desk and how when I put my glasses back on I was alone in the room.

…How on earth could I ever forget?

He was still staring intently at me, looking pitifully hopeful.

"No." I replied simply, trying not to wince as he jerked his hand away from my face.

The thoughts of that kiss running through my mind made me uneasy. I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them as I glanced to the side. He was leaning back on his elbows, taken to staring out into nothing again. To anybody else, I'm sure he would've looked quite content. But I knew better. His fingers were clutching at the grass and his lips were pressed into a dangerously thin line. I could hear him grinding his teeth.

His tense state unnerved my even more. "Stop it," I muttered, sounding absolutely appalled.

"Stop what?" Not bothering to look at me, he snapped his reply.

Exasperated, I glared at him before yelling, "That! Stop that! Being so…ornery. **Brooding**. Stop brooding!"

Lazily, he turned his head to look at me, "I am not brooding. I'm thinking."

"Well stop thinking, then!" I snapped, aware far too late of how stupid I sounded. I was suddenly glad for the darkness; I knew my cheeks were red.

"Why do you always act so God damn unhappy, Potter?"

My eyes narrowed as we glared at each other. "Why do **you** always act so much better than everybody else?"

"Because I am."

"And that's your answer."

He kept staring at me and I turned away, resting my chin on top of my knees. Familiar silence resumed between us. I could hear his teeth grinding again, but before I had a chance to complain, he spoke up.

"It's your fault, you know. You could be the happiest person alive. You can have anything you want. **Anything**," Surprisingly, he didn't sound angry. More sad than anything else. His melancholic tone shocked me into speechlessness and I simply stared at him as he grabbed his shoes and stood up, staring down at me. His lips were twisted into a frown.

With a slow, resigned shake of his head, he walked off toward the castle, leaving blades of grass fluttering behind him. I closed my eyes and sighed before burying my face in my hands.


End file.
